Chapter 5
“What are you doing?” Sophie halted in the space between her living area and kitchen. Ephraim was on his knees and sticking a long wooden rod that looked suspiciously like her broom handle in the bottom track of her sliding patio door.
“Beefing up your security. This is how I got in the house yesterday.” He sat back on his heels and surveyed his work. “The wooden dowel will prevent the door from sliding open. It might not prevent someone from breaking the glass, but it will give you fair warning of an intruder.”
“Dowel? Did you cut my broom off that?”
He shrugged, “I’ll buy you another broom. Who has an old-fashioned broom, anyway?”
“Someone who thinks the bristle brooms pick up better than the plastic ones.” She glanced around the living area. “What else have you been doing while I was in the shower?”
He stood and only paused a second to get his balance before walking over to the exterior front door.
He opened it and pointed to the strike plate for the deadbolt lock she’d installed when she moved in the cabin.
“See this? Most of the locks come with a short screw set, half an inch long max. I found some longer screws in your junk drawer and replaced the short screws with those. It makes breaking down the doors harder.”
When he’d closed the door he turned and smiled at her. “You keep the plants and shrubs around your house trimmed so that’s good, less places to hide, but with you being in the national park and only having a clearing for the cabin, you’re still at risk for someone closing in on you.”
Sophie frowned. The only predators she’d ever considered for her choice of living space were the ones with four legs or that slithered. She hadn’t thought of people being hazardous to her health, or at least not in the country.
“Well, thanks for doing all of this,” she gestured toward the door.
“It’s not enough, but it’ll do for now. You can get a system tomorrow and I’ll install it.”
“No,” she said with conviction and when Ephraim looked as if he’d argue with her she continued.
“First of all, I don’t want to spend the kind of money I’d need to cover the property.
Secondly, I refuse to live in fear ever again.
” She could have bitten her tongue off as soon as the words left her mouth.
She whirled around and headed for the kitchen and much needed coffee, aware of Ephraim following close on her heels.
To her surprise the coffee pot was full of rich black brew and she grabbed a mug from the shelf above the coffee maker and filled it to the brim.
She took her time sipping the hot liquid and staring at the wall before taking a breath and turning to face Ephraim.
“What would you like for breakfast? I have everything you can think of, eggs, bacon, sausage, cereal—”
After a silence that seemed to last forever, he shrugged and stepped around her to grab a mug for himself. “Anything. I’m starving. And I can help.”
She sighed in relief for the reprieve. She might not have known him for, what was it? Two days? But she did know one thing. The man didn’t miss a trick and he’d bring up her slip of the tongue before breakfast was over.
They cooked pancakes and bacon, working together in an odd sort of harmony that Sophie hadn’t felt since she’d been a child.
She’d noted that Ephraim had folded the blanket he’d used and stacked it and the pillow on the end of the sofa.
They filled their plates and took them to the table.
Ephraim sat quietly as she said grace then picked up her fork to begin eating.
He went through one pancake before speaking. “I haven’t had pancakes in a long time. Thanks for this, and for taking me in at the island.”
She smiled slightly and continued eating, unsure how to respond. Oh, I didn’t want to, but I would have felt guilty if you died? Or see how that turned out, you’re shoring up my house for a human hurricane. Or, even better, no problem, I have experience with dangerous men. Yep, that was the one.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, he put down his fork and picked up his coffee mug then asked, “What was with the comment about living in fear?”
Sophie’s fork paused on the way to her mouth and she replaced it on the plate then shoved the dish away, her appetite gone. “It was nothing.”
“Nope.”
She closed her eyes in resignation and then faced him. “I was in an abusive relationship a few years ago.”
“To the point that you refuse to take measures to keep you safe now?”
“I do take measures. I watch everywhere I go. I can hear the slightest sound, you in fact, when you were unconscious. I don’t go out after dark if I can help it.
I moved from the city, away from people I don’t know.
I live in the middle of nowhere because I can control every aspect of my life here.
” She finished with almost a shout, then realized her eyes were stinging with tears.
His hand came toward hers but she scooted her chair back and stood, picking up her plate. “I’m finished.” Rather than washing her dish, as she usually did in the morning, she dumped the half-eaten pancake and bacon in the sink and stalked into her bedroom.
When she came out with her light jacket and backpack, the dishes were in the drainer and Ephraim was drying his hands with a dishtowel.
He arched his brow at the sight of her in her “work clothes” of jeans and a t-shirt covered by a jacket, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “We going someplace?”
“I’m going to work. If you need anything I can pick it up on the way home. You can rest here for the day and then we’ll make plans to get you back home.” Wherever home was.
“Staying here, with you til the danger is passed,” he replied in almost a monotone, as if he were bored of saying the phrase again. “How many houses do you have to clean today?”
“Five,” she said and when he nodded and headed for the door she followed saying, “You’re going?”
“I’m your shadow for the time being. And I can help you with the houses, make your work shorter today.” He waited as she locked the door and then followed her to her car. As he settled into the passenger seat, she eyed him. He didn’t look as pale today.
“Still have the headache?” she pulled out onto the gravel road that led from her property to the one lane park road.
“It’s not bad today, just a dull ache. And I see one of you.” He grinned. “Made putting those screws in the door a lot easier.” He mimicked trying to hit a target with his hand and she laughed in spite of her simmering anger from earlier.
“Good.” She turned onto the main road and headed north for her first house and they spent a few minutes in silence before Ephraim spoke. “How did you end up with a cabin in the national forest?”
“It’s an inholding. My family had land here when the forest was established and it’s been passed down ever since.
My grandfather built the house in 1964 as a hunting cabin and my father spruced it up to be a vacation home.
When he and my mother moved to South Carolina, I bought the land from them and did a few more upgrades, wiring, the patio, that sort of thing. ”
“It’s nice,” he said. “Small but nice.”
She nodded, “I like the size. It’s perfect for me.”
“What about the business?”
“My cleaning?” She shrugged. “When I graduated high school, I moved to Panama City. I’d grown up in small towns and wanted the big city life,” she snorted.
“I found out that I couldn’t get a decent job without training, so I drifted from waitressing, working vacation jobs like renting boats and guide work and then fell into cleaning some rentals.
It wasn’t great money, but I had plenty of work when I needed it. ”
“And the guy?”
Ephraim noted her flat expression as she focused on the road in front of her.
“The usual. He was gorgeous, had all the right things to say to pull me in and then we moved in together. I wanted marriage, he wanted someone who’d give him space.
” Ephraim could see the air quotes in her words.
“When I started complaining about him being out in the evenings and spending the money I was squirreling away to take a couple of college classes, he started hitting me.”
“How long did it last?”
“I let him hit me twice. After the first time, I thought, oh it’s a fluke. The second time I packed my stuff and went to a friend’s house. The only problem was he didn’t want to break up.”
Ephraim glanced down at his clenched fists and slowly relaxed them until he was gripping his knees. She was small, too small to suffer a strike from a man who outweighed her.
“When you moved here did he follow you?”
She shook her head. “He was in prison by then.”